


Hold Me in Your Beating Heart

by coffeeinallcaps



Category: Star Wars Episode VII: The Force Awakens (2015)
Genre: Blow Jobs, Established Relationship, Explicit Sexual Content, First Time Blow Jobs, M/M, Porn with Feelings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-31
Updated: 2016-05-31
Packaged: 2018-07-11 09:19:58
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,036
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7042255
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/coffeeinallcaps/pseuds/coffeeinallcaps
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“Fuck,” Poe says as the realization hits him. “We’re totally imitating a shitty holodrama here, aren’t we?”<br/><br/>The summary on the back cover would be a little like this, he imagines: <i>Resistance starfighter pilot Poe Dameron was left heartbroken after a tragic break-up with his childhood sweetheart when he defected from the New Republic Starfleet. But when a young man named Finn saves his life and steals his heart, Poe learns that the idea of ‘one true love’ is truly just a myth...</i><br/><br/>Alternatively, Poe thinks as Finn shrugs and focuses his attention on Poe’s dick again, the Datanet clickbait version: <i>Watch this gorgeous ex-stormtrooper teach a Resistance pilot how to suck cock (Flyboy's First Blow Job)!</i></p>
            </blockquote>





	Hold Me in Your Beating Heart

It’s probably bad form to think of your ex when someone else is about to go down on you, but Poe can’t help it. He feels the brush of Finn’s breath against the underside of his dick, the warm weight of Finn’s hands gently teasing his legs apart, and it’s taking him right back to a humid afternoon on Yavin IV, years ago.

He’d blown his load in less than a minute, and she had spent the next decade and a half making fun of him for it. “Hey, remember when,” she’d say, mid- or post-coitus, already cracking up. He’d gotten into the habit of trying to distract her with another kiss, or by going down on her. If he did it just quickly enough, buried his face in her wet heat and slid two or three fingers back into her, she’d gasp and sink her hands into his hair and forget to remind him of that embarrassing moment of premature ejaculation the first time they did anything more than making out and heavy petting behind their school building.

He’d always expected to hear her joke about it at their wedding as well. It’s one of the parts he’d always looked forward to most.

“Hey,” Finn says. His thumb moves back and forth across Poe’s inner thigh, leaving a trail of goosebumps in its wake and drawing a shiver out of him. “Poe.”

Poe stops blinking at the ceiling and pushes up onto his elbows. It’s a good thing that he’s thirty-two now and not fifteen anymore, because it’s a damn hot sight, the sight of Finn nestled between his legs, gloriously naked and completely at ease, looking up at Poe with dark, curious eyes. Most definitely the stuff of premature ejaculations.

“You all right?” Finn asks. “You seem a little lost in thought.”

Poe nods. “I’m fine,” he says, instead of _I’ve only ever done this with one other person before and doing it with you is a little more nerve-racking than I was expecting it to be_. That’s apparently what Finn hears, though, because he gives Poe a small, reassuring smile before leaning down to kiss his stomach.

Poe’s hand moves to touch Finn’s cheek. Finn turns his head and presses a soft kiss to the center of Poe’s palm, and.

“Fuck,” Poe says as the realization hits him. “We’re totally imitating a shitty holodrama here, aren’t we?”

“I wouldn’t know,” Finn says, teeth grazing Poe’s palm. He doesn’t seem perturbed by the idea at all. “Jess refuses to let me watch any of the shitty ones before I’ve watched all the good ones with her.”

Poe is pretty sure he and Jess have wildly different definitions of the words ‘shitty’ and ‘good’ in this particular context, but okay. “The shitty ones are like the good ones, except a little more trashy and with even worse actors,” he says.

The summary on the back cover of the holodisc would be a little like this, he imagines: _Resistance starfighter pilot Poe Dameron was left heartbroken after a tragic break-up with his childhood sweetheart when he defected from the New Republic Starfleet. But when a young man named Finn saves his life and steals his heart, Poe learns that the idea of ‘one true love’ is truly just a myth..._

Alternatively, Poe thinks as Finn shrugs and focuses his attention on Poe’s dick again, the Datanet clickbait version: _Watch this gorgeous ex-stormtrooper teach a Resistance pilot how to suck cock (Flyboy's First Blow Job)!_

An ex-stormtrooper and a Resistance pilot. Rey is right; they make quite a pair. Their relationship could inspire a whole new genre of porn, probably, covering everything from the star-crossed lovers trope to filthy battlefield frenemy fucks. The stormtrooper still in full armor with only the codpiece flung to the side, the pilot’s flightsuit hastily peeled down from his upper body, a gloved hand fisted harshly into his hair, labored breathing, sweat dripping—

“Poe,” Finn says, squeezing Poe’s shaft.

“Sorry,” Poe says. He shifts his weight onto one arm and scrubs a hand down his face. “I’m just feeling a little...” He waves his hand around.

“Distracted?” Finn volunteers.

“Overwhelmed,” is the word Poe settles for, even though it doesn’t feel like the right one, not exactly, and Finn’s face softens.

“We don’t have to do this tonight,” he says. “We can wait. Take it slow.”

He says it earnestly, like he genuinely believes it. Like this isn’t the first full evening they’ve had to themselves ever since this tentative thing between them took off. Like Poe hasn’t been living on borrowed time for years, but now more than ever before; like there isn’t a very real possibility that, sooner or later, the First Order is going to come for them. For all of them, but especially for the traitor and the scavenger who came so close to bringing down Kylo Ren.

The thought cracks through Poe’s mind like a whip, a flash of red and black drenched in cold terror.

Finn says, “If you’re not—”

“I’m sure,” Poe tells him. “I haven’t been this sure of anything since agreeing to join the Resistance.”

Finn grins. “I was going to say ‘if you’re not gonna get with the program’, but that’s nice to know, I guess.”

“Oh, you’re a little shit, aren’t you,” Poe says, poking Finn’s side with his toe. And then, before this whole situation gets too sappy and B-grade holodrama-like for him to bear, “All right then, buddy, why don’t you show me those cock-sucking skills you’re so proud of.”

“Only if you promise to keep your head in the game,” Finn says sternly, but he’s already stroking a loose dry fist down Poe’s dick again, sending sparks of pleasure through Poe’s groin. “I’m not planning to provide you with a running commentary every time we do this. This is gonna be a one-time only performance.”

“That’s fine,” Poe says. His breath catches in his throat when Finn’s thumb slowly, slowly drags around the head of his dick. “I’m a quick study.”

He’s about to remind Finn that also, he’s not a _complete_ novice to blow jobs—he has been on the receiving end of plenty of ’em in the past, it’s just that they all happened to come from the same person—when Finn wraps his lips around the tip of Poe’s dick.

Finn had been intrigued and a little amused to hear about Poe’s relative lack of sexual experience with men compared to him. “I just thought,” he’d said, “it’s just not what you’d expect, I guess, is all. I mean, I grew up as a _stormtrooper_.”

“Which means you were surrounded by countless other horny teenage boys twenty-four seven,” Poe pointed out reasonably. “Is it really that surprising you’ve spent more quality time with other people’s dicks than I have?”

“Well, you did have a ten-year head start on me,” Finn pointed out in return, also reasonably, “and of course you’re _very_ charming.”

“Maybe I only dial up the charm when you’re around,” Poe said, pulling Finn into his arms. And then, in a lower voice, lips brushing against the side of Finn’s face: “So, any chance you’re gonna let me in on all that sexual experience of yours, or what?”

“Oh,” Finn had said, matching Poe’s tone, the corner of his mouth twitching upward, “you bet I will.”

It’d been a casual, light-hearted conversation, the same way everything else between Finn and him was casual and light-hearted. Their first kiss, their first quick exchange of hand jobs in the dark hangar, Finn pressed up against Black One, gasping hotly into Poe’s ear. Hell, even their escape from the Finalizer had been a bit like that, with quips and laughter to relieve the tension as they dodged blaster fire and the lines of their fates rearranged themselves around each other.

With Finn, everything felt easy. Right.

But just because the conversation had been casual and light-hearted didn’t mean Finn had been kidding, and that’s how Poe had ended up here, flat on his back on his own bed with the doors sealed and the lights down low (low, but not _too_ low; “I wanna be able to see your expressions,” Finn had said in a way that made Poe want to hold him close again) and a gleeful BB-8 sexiled to Rey’s quarters under the guise of a sleepover.

That’s how Poe had ended up here with Finn nestled between his spread legs, gloriously naked, occasionally letting Poe’s dick slide out of his mouth to ask things like, “Feel good?” and say things like, “Okay, so when you use your tongue like this…” and to make other asides that Poe can do little but nod at, open-mouthed and breathing fast, speechlessly watching the scene unfold.

He becomes aware of the fact that his legs are trembling. So are his hands. He consciously tries to inhale deeply and relax his muscles but he can’t because it feels so _good_ , fuck. It’s been so long since the last time he had sex with anyone, and it’s so familiar yet so different because Finn is nothing like her and she was nothing like Finn.

Well, that’s not true. Both of them are stunning; both of them are lightyears out of Poe’s league in too many ways to count—both too smart, too kind, too fair, too bright for him in every single way. They’re both comets passing by a collapsar, pulled in by its destructive gravitational pull.

She had been small and soft, impatient and deliciously bossy in bed. Finn, as far as Poe can tell at this point, isn’t impatient as much as enthusiastic. He’s eager to try a lot of different things, preferably several times and in several different positions. They haven’t actually had a chance to try much yet, but Finn is pretty vocal about everything he wants to try.

Finn is pretty vocal about everything in general, really, which Poe thinks is wonderful. With Finn it’s not just “Can’t wait to suck you off” (they’ll be able to tick that one off the list now) or “Fuck, your dick’s gonna feel so good inside me” (hasn’t happened yet, unfortunately, but: soon, and also yes, yes it is), it’s also “How are you so attractive,” (thanks, buddy, you’re not too bad yourself) and “Can’t believe I got lucky enough to meet you”.

Poe inhales sharply when Finn’s tongue circles around the head of his dick. Finn blinks up at him, and Poe gives in to the urge to stroke his hand down Finn’s head, thinking, _Yeah, me neither_.

Finn has stopped periodically pulling off to comment on what he’s doing and why he’s doing it. He’s also not looking up to meet Poe’s gaze anymore, too preoccupied with getting Poe off now—taking him deeper, swallowing around him, jaw slack, eyes closed. He’s humming, or moaning, Poe can’t be sure; either way it feels _good_ , makes his toes curl and his thigh muscles twitch under the reassuring weight of Finn’s hands.

It feels good, everything feels so good, so right, and when Poe comes it feels like that too, good and right, easy, his body comfortably tipping over into orgasm. It’s nothing like the shock of that very first time, the startling barrage of hotwetsoftsogoodholyfucking _shit_ that had ended in a climax so forceful and unexpected it’d almost made his knees give out.

Poe laughs, chest heaving, and drags a hand through his hair. It’s a little damp at the roots.

“What?” Finn says as he sits up.

Poe shrugs, shakes his head.

Finn’s mouth is shiny. He wipes it on the back of his arm. When Poe reaches for him Finn seems to move into the touch automatically, smiling when Poe’s thumb comes to rest on his bottom lip.

 _Shitty holodrama much_ , Poe thinks, and then he thinks, _Shut up_ and cups Finn’s cheek to coax him into a kiss.

They make out for a while, Finn steadying himself with a hand on Poe’s chest. He has to put pressure on it to keep from losing his balance as the kiss grows more heated. When he eventually breaks away, Poe feels the loss of his weight like a sudden cut-off of oxygen. For a second, it somehow feels harder to breathe without it.

“All right,” Finn says, sitting back on his heels again. “I believe I was promised a sloppy blow job.”

“I never said it was going to be sloppy,” Poe protests. “I said it was going to be my first.”

Finn smiles at him, sweetly, and says, “Same difference, isn’t it?”

“Stop it,” Poe says. “You’re just trying to bring out my competitive streak. I’m not falling for it.” He refuses to fall for it.

Finn’s smile morphs into a smirk as if to say, _Really now_. “C’mon, flyboy,” he says. “Hit me with your best shot.”

He unselfconsciously flops down onto his back next to Poe. He reaches down and tugs at his half-hard dick in an equally unselfconscious way, and Poe feels frozen with indecision for a moment, torn between wanting to kiss Finn—glorious, stunning, unselfconscious Finn—again and wanting to _taste_ him, wanting to feel the weight of Finn’s dick on his tongue and the shape of it in his mouth.

The latter feeling wins out, just barely: Finn’s eyes are already dipping shut in anticipation of a kiss that doesn’t come because Poe decides at the last moment to change direction and kiss the hollow at the base of Finn’s throat instead. Finn’s pulse jumps under his tongue, and then Finn’s body jerks when Poe briefly sets his teeth against the curve of Finn’s shoulder.

“Poe,” Finn breathes, one of his hands sliding into the hair at the back of Poe’s neck, and oh, that’s nice. That feels nice, really nice. She used to do that too, comb her fingers through his hair. When he rested his head on her chest after sex, or, better, when she was about to come, her nails scratching almost painfully down his skin.

Poe shifts closer to Finn, straddling him in the process, to encourage him to keep going. Finn seems to get it right away—and Poe loves him for this as well as many other reasons, too many to count or to dwell on for too long in this moment—because his other hand comes up around Poe’s neck as well. His fingertips slot between the juts of Poe’s vertebrae, thumb swiping along his hairline.

Poe shivers and presses even closer. He takes a breath before continuing to work his way down Finn’s body, fitting his mouth over one of Finn’s nipples.

“Oh,” Finn mumbles. His fingers flex in Poe’s hair and his hips twitch up against Poe’s, his dick a hot insistent line against Poe’s stomach. “Yeah, that’s—I like the way that feels.”

Poe breathes out through his mouth, slowly, and Finn shudders under him. He’s so responsive, throwing himself headlong into this the same way he throws himself headlong into everything. The same way _Poe_ throws himself headlong into everything, he realizes.

It’s a thought that makes his head spin.

To distract himself, he drags his lips down the flat, hard plane of Finn’s abdomen. Finn’s body jerks again when Poe strokes a hand down the smooth skin of his side.

“No—don’t you even—” Finn says, swatting Poe’s hand away, but he’s laughing, and Poe stifles a laugh of his own against the fuzzy trail of hair under Finn’s navel. He can smell sweat and sex down here and he wonders, again, what Finn will taste like. If it’ll be different.

Poe glances up. Finn is looking at him, a soft look on his face.

“Ready to get your mind blown?” Poe asks, wriggling his eyebrows.

Finn chokes on an amused sound. “Fucking hell, Poe, get a move on,” he says.

One of his hands is still resting on the nape of Poe’s neck, barely there. His thumb is swiping back and forth along Poe’s hairline again in an absent-minded way that makes heat flare low in Poe’s stomach. It makes him want to bend his head, push up into Finn’s touch. Offer him… Offer him whatever. Anything he wants.

There might be some sort of profound meaning curled up somewhere at the core of that feeling, something about trust and vulnerability. Maybe there isn’t. Maybe there is.

Poe bends his head, Finn’s fingertips a feather-light presence at the base of his skull. Poe places his forearm next to Finn’s thigh and wraps his other hand around Finn’s dick, bringing it to his mouth.

“Oh,” Finn gasps quietly above Poe.

Poe glances up at him.

“I’m sorry,” Finn says. “It’s just, I’ve been thinking about this. Wondering what it’d look like.”

“Yeah?” Poe says, thumbing the root of Finn’s dick and feeling a flash of satisfaction when Finn squirms a little under him. “At night, in your bunk?”

Finn shakes his head. “Mornings, fresher. I actually sleep at night. Some of us enjoy being well rested.”

“I don’t even know what that word means,” Poe says mournfully, and he takes the tip of Finn’s dick into his mouth.

He’s been thinking about this as well, of course. At night in his bed _and_ in the mornings in the fresher, because there’s really no good reason why you can’t have both, Finn.

And that’s Poe’s thing right there, isn’t it. He wants both. He’ll always want both, won’t ever stop throwing himself headlong into things because it’s what he wants, it’s what he does, what he knows—

“Fuck, Poe,” Finn breathes.

Thinking about it, though, is one thing. It’s another thing to actually be here, with Finn’s touch light and warm on his skin and Finn’s dick filling his mouth, the taste and feeling of it unfamiliar but _good_ , it feels good. Shit, it feels good.

“Poe,” Finn sighs again.

This time Poe doesn’t look up. He’s trying to figure out how to put his tongue to good use while keeping his teeth out of the way and stroking the exposed part of Finn’s dick, which requires some coordination and effort. And besides, judging by the way Finn’s hand on the back of his neck is slowly getting heavier—very slowly, as though Finn isn’t aware of it himself—Poe is reasonably sure that Finn doesn’t actually want him to respond. Not verbally, at least.

Poe ends up hollowing his cheeks and pressing his tongue to the underside of the head of Finn’s dick, hard. He receives another breathy moan of his name coupled with another swearword for his trouble.

“Oh, fuck, that’s, that feels really, yeah,” Finn says, his knee nudging Poe’s ribs as he shifts a little. Poe’s arm is starting to get tired, so he moves as well, switching hands and putting his other arm across Finn’s stomach without taking his mouth off Finn’s dick. It’s a pretty smooth move, even if he does think so himself.

“Shit, Poe,” Finn says, voice low, “this feels great, fuck, you look so _good_ , you have no idea.”

It’s no news that Finn is a talker, but Poe wasn’t expecting it to have the effect on him that it has. Every single one of Finn’s words is like a bolt of heat down his spine, making his face flush and his dick stir against the mattress. He reflexively takes Finn deeper into his mouth, tongue pulsing up reflexively as well.

The side of his index finger brushes against his upper lip on a downstroke, and it should be disgusting, probably, the fact that his own spit is slicking the way for his hand, but there’s something filthily sexy about it that makes Poe’s dick twitch again. There’s something thrilling about the burn in his triceps, the dull throbbing in his jaw, the way his own body still feels languid and a little slow from orgasm.

He wonders how long the ache in his jaw joint is going to last. If he’ll be reminded of this tomorrow morning every time he opens his mouth to speak. He doesn’t think it’ll last that long, but he kind of wants it to. He wants to absorb Finn into his joints and his muscles and his bones. He doesn’t want the physical reminder of tonight to ebb away that quickly, he wants it to last, fuck, he wants this to last.

Finn moans, his fingers twitching against Poe’s skin again. His hand slides down—the hairs at the back of Poe’s neck stand up in protest—to Poe’s cheek. He can feel himself now, Poe realizes, must be able to feel the shape of his dick through Poe’s cheek. The thought of that makes Poe’s mind reel.

“Is this, can I,” Finn gasps as his other hand touches down on Poe’s other cheek, “I just need to, I want, I won’t…”

Poe hum-moans in response, which makes Finn’s hips strain up against Poe’s forearm.

“Sorry,” Finn says, and then, “fuck, you’re doing great, just, just keep doing what you’re doing.”

 _Keep doing what you’re doing_. Ha. He isn’t actually doing much, is he, just jerking Finn off into his own mouth, really, while sucking on the head of his dick. It doesn’t feel like much but at the same time it feels heady and overwhelming, especially with Finn’s gentle touches and encouragement.

Finn is reverently holding Poe’s head, and Poe wants to tell him it’s all right, you can pull my hair. He _wants_ Finn to pull his hair. He remembers exactly how much he likes that, how it makes pleasure course through him faster and more intensely than almost anything else. Remembers nails scraping against his scalp and fingers winding into his curls tight enough to hurt in the good way. The best way.

But he doesn’t want to take his mouth off Finn’s dick to tell Finn it’s all right, because Finn, Finn is cradling Poe’s head like it’s the most precious thing his hands have ever held, and a small part of Poe’s mind thinks, irrationally, that he never wants to take his mouth off Finn’s dick again. Wants to stay down here forever with Finn’s warm hands framing his face and Finn’s dick stretching his lips wide and Finn’s stomach rising and falling choppily under the belly of his wrist.

Poe accidentally chokes himself on Finn’s dick a little, and he finds himself having to blink back tears. Embarrassing. One of them escapes, starts rolling down his cheek in slow motion.

Finn, thank the Force, doesn’t notice. “I’m gonna,” he says, tapping Poe’s jaw with two fingers.

Poe nods and pulls off but doesn’t let go. His jaw is almost numb and his mouth feels strange, tingling and empty. He’s glad when Finn’s hand slides into his hair to gently tug him up again, because it means he gets to press their mouths together, make Finn taste himself on Poe’s tongue as he thrusts up into the circle of Poe’s hand.

Finn breaks away for a moan and breathes Poe’s name again, one last time, and then he comes, eyes shut, mouth slack. Poe watches him, strokes him through it until Finn’s eyes blink open again and they look at each other and Finn lets out a contented sigh.

“That was good,” he says. “Really good.”

“Told you,” Poe says, “quick learner,” and he kisses Finn again, slower this time.

They doze off for a while. Poe is nudged awake when Finn makes a sleepy noise and curls closer to him. Clean-up can wait till morning, but the lights are still on. Poe shakes his head to clear it and shifts, mumbles to Finn, “I’m just gonna—”

Finn’s hand on his chest stops him. “Leave ’em on,” Finn says groggily. “Just for a little while.”

Poe shrugs. “Okay,” he says, instead reaching for the covers to pull them up to their waists. Finn tucks himself back against Poe’s side. His forehead is close enough for Poe to brush his lips against it. It’s a pretty good ending to the scene, he thinks as he lets his eyes drift shut and the world fades to black around them.

**Author's Note:**

> I apologize to such wonderful individuals as gloss, notcaycepollard, thistlerosie, secondarysushicorps, listentotheshityousay and door for the amount of time I spent harassing them about Poe having intense feelings about Finn while they exchange blow jobs. It wasn't supposed to take me this long to write and edit this. In my defense, this Poe had a lot of intense feelings ("jesus christ Poe you need someone to love you and also a lot of space pilots therapy" -- notcaycepollard).
> 
> Please consider making my day/month/life by leaving a comment if you enjoyed reading this, even if it's "just" a ❤ or a gif or an emoji or three words in all caps—I love those kinds of comments! Feel free to let me know if you spotted a typo, and please come have intense feelings about these two with me [on Tumblr](http://coffeeinallcaps.tumblr.com).


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